


Wherein Love's A Dangerous Game

by jumpstarts



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, M/M, Undercover AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:07:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23061427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jumpstarts/pseuds/jumpstarts
Summary: Being undercover and in the employ of the local underworld kingpin, one small misstep could bring Changmin's entire house of cards tumbling down. He couldn't afford a distraction.Life then decided to throw him a curve ball in the form of one Jung Yunho.
Relationships: Jung Yunho/OMC, Jung Yunho/Shim Changmin
Comments: 11
Kudos: 55





	Wherein Love's A Dangerous Game

**Author's Note:**

> it's a guilty pleasure. :)

.

The first time Changmin saw Yunho was two months into his undercover stint. Cha Jaebom had thrown a party for his business associates, the dirtiest motherfuckers this side of the planet, and Changmin’s there as security detail. He’s doing well enough for a nobody whose background consisted of half-truths and sketchy details that could hardly be verified, courtesy of the desk jockeys back in whatever government installation housing the branch of National Intelligence Service that had recruited him right out of the academy. 

_Blend in_ , was the prime directive. His handler was a petite woman with a face carved out of marble. Her smile reminded him of a sharpened sickle. _Get them to trust you first. Do whatever it takes._

The party was unexpectedly sedate. No wild orgies. No naked girls swinging from the chandeliers. There’s a lady crooning softly on the stage, accompanied by a pianist. The guests were milling about, exchanging pleasantries. It’s almost disappointing. Changmin talked shop for a bit with the guys escorting other guests, drank some expensive as fuck champagne and tried to keep track of everything that’s going on without looking like he’s keeping track of anything. There wasn’t any sign of trouble and Changmin mentally composed a report to his handler: _Nothing happened. Rubbed elbows with at least twenty six mass murderers and I can’t arrest any of them. I fucking hate this job._

He’s signing the report with his middle finger when he spotted the man.

Who was so _beautiful_ Changmin had to do a double-take to make sure he’s not hallucinating. He glanced at his half-full flute of bubbly — or drunk. Soft brown hair, cat-like eyes, straight nose, sharp jawline. Plush, red lips generously stretched into a smile, a grin, laughter, as he weaved around the guests. The bespoke suit he wore gave loving accent to his broad shoulders, tapering to a trim waist. Long legs. Very elegant hands that he used to illustrate whatever the hell he’s talking about. Everyone seemed to know him, if the warm reception to his presence was of any indication. 

Changmin wasn’t drooling, but it’s a close thing.

“Hey.” He nudged the guy next to him, a senior member of their local chapter of Rent-A-Thug. “Who’s that?”

The guy turned to squint to where Changmin was pointing. He whistled. “ _That_ is way above your paygrade, man.” Changmin’s frown made him chuckle. “Only the big fish get to play with Yunho.”

“Yunho?”

“That’s his name, yeah. He’s nice.” The chuckle slid into a dirty smirk and an elbow jab into Changmin’s ribs. “If you can afford the price tag.”

He’s too busy staring to notice. 

.

Yunho’s name was Jung Yunho.

Changmin learnt that particular fact when he’s introduced to Yunho later that night, outside the Westin Chosun’s lavish Presidential Suite. Cha Jaebom was a large man. From the thick muscles shifting underneath his suit to the sharp glint in his black eyes, everything about the underworld kingpin was an unsubtle threat of violence. He grinned at them around the fat cigar clamped between his teeth as he strode out of the elevator, a possessive arm around Yunho’s waist. Changmin stood straighter when the man stopped in front of him. 

“You the new kid?”

“Yes, sir.” He bent himself into a bow. “Lee Changwoo, sir.”

“Good, good.” The cigar bobbed. He turned to Yunho. “What do you think? He’s replacing Junghwan starting today.”

Changmin’s eyes met Yunho’s and he had to fight to not flush. Yunho’s looking at him with a benign smile and Changmin hesitated for only a half-second when he’s offered a hand to shake. It’s a nice, firm grip. Slender fingers. Soft skin. Neat, manicured nails: the stuff of wet dreams if someone had a hand kink, which Changmin might be spontaneously developing. He didn’t hang on for too long, not with the way Cha Jaebom was looking at them. 

“I’m Jung Yunho, nice to meet you.” Changmin inclined his head. His mouth was suddenly too dry for actual words. Yunho’s smile widened a couple inches. “He’ll do fine, Jaebom-sshi.”

Cha Jaebom nodded, before turning to address his head of security. Changmin wasn’t paying attention to what was being said, beyond _don’t disturb us unless the hotel’s burning to the ground_ , because Yunho was still staring thoughtfully at him and he’s about to pop a boner in front of his very dangerous employer. He breathed a sigh of relief when Cha Jaebom moved into the sprawling room, with Yunho in tandem. The doors closed behind them. Changmin’s heart stopped jackrabbiting inside his chest now that he wasn’t worried about being taken out back and executed. 

“Who’s Junghwan? What happened to him?”

“Nobody told you?” Changmin shook his head and the guy scoffed. “Junghwan used to be Yunho’s bodyguard. Forced into early retirement. The permanent kind.”

Changmin tried not to look too panicked. He’s not sure he succeeded. “He’s _dead_?”

“Yeah. Stupid fuck got a bit too handsy with Yunho and boss didn’t like it.” The guy shrugged, fishing out a pack of cigarettes. He tapped one out and held it to Changmin. “Word of advice: keep your hands to yourself, your dick in your pants and you might just see the end of this month.”

It’s the least comforting thing Changmin had heard since Kyuhyun tried to convince him that he couldn’t get herpes from a blow job.

.

Breakfast came in two separate trolleys. It’s like they had crammed everything they could from the buffet on them and pray that nothing would roll off. The hotel staff didn’t meet their eyes and excused themselves, practically ran to the elevator. Not that Changmin could blame them, when his colleagues looked like they‘d just escaped from the nearest maximum security facility. The smell of fresh coffee made him feel less dead on his feet, but before he could even get a cup (or three), the head of security pointed at him. At the more fancily-decorated of the two trolleys, followed by the door.

The older man grinned. “Go, kid.” 

Muttering a curse under his breath, Changmin ran a hand over his suit to smooth out the wrinkles from hours of sitting around playing cards and pushed the breakfast trolley through the doors once they were unlocked. 

And then promptly froze.

He didn’t notice the doors closing behind him because Cha Jaebom was sitting in a high-backed chair near the ceiling-to-floor window and he had Yunho with him. Changmin couldn’t see Yunho’s face, but he could see that Yunho’s being fucked, good and hard. He’s just boneless and taking it, hands slung around Cha Jaebom’s neck as he’s bounced on the man’s lap. Slim, white thighs were spread wide, hooked far apart and Cha Jaebom was gripping his waist with those meaty hands, hard enough to bruise. Changmin’s eyes flickered to where Yunho was speared on the thick curve of Cha Jaebom’s cock, where he’s slicked open and stretched to accommodate the girth. 

His own cock throbbed.

Changmin wasn’t sure what he’s supposed to do when he’d just walked in on his boss fucking the man of his dreams, but he didn’t think he’s allowed to follow his first instinct.

Which was to pull out his gun and punch a bullet straight between Cha Jaebom’s eyes. 

He could almost see his handler’s disappointed frown.

Since he wasn’t in any position to blow his cover and get himself killed, he nudged the trolley closer to the dining table as quietly as he could, looking at anything and everything but the bodies rutting in the chair. His luck ran out when he met Cha Jaebom’s eyes over the sweat-slick slope of Yunho’s trembling shoulders just before he reached the doors.

The man’s grin would’ve looked at home on the head of a saltwater crocodile. 

He stroked a large hand down the arch of Yunho’s spine and fucked up sharply, eliciting a muffled cry from where Yunho had buried his face in Cha Jaebom’s chest. 

Changmin kept his expression as straight as possible, bowed and fled.

.

“Enjoyed the show?”

Changmin’s mouth dropped open from where he’s leaning against the wall, cold sweat prickling the back of his neck. “You knew they’d be- be doing _that_?”

“Baptism by fire, kid. Boss likes his morning fuck.” The guy gave him a shit-eating grin, the fucking traitorous dickhead, and a buttered croissant from their trolley as peace offering. “Best get used to it. You’ll see a lot when you’re babysitting Yunho.”

Changmin shoved half of the croissant into his mouth.

_Fuck. This is the worst fucking job ever._

.

Cha Jaebom emerged right around noon and went straight to business, carrying the rest of the entourage away until Changmin was the only one left behind. He had the keys to a car and strict instruction to accompany Yunho to wherever he wanted to go as long as he’s deposited back to Cha Jaebom’s mansion in one piece at the end of the day. Changmin wanted to bang his head on the wall. Keeping an eye on Yunho meant he wouldn’t be very useful in gathering information about Cha Jaebom’s shady dealings, the only reason he’s there. His handler would be so fucking _pissed_ once she learnt about his change of job description. 

He mentally composed another report: _Appointed as official babysitter to Big Bad’s fuckdoll. I might also get killed thanks to my dick’s inability to calm the fuck down because fuckdoll is stupid beautiful. Wish I had the foresight to go into Traffic instead of listening to your sales pitch._

The intercom beeped to life as he’s contemplating a course of action that wouldn’t accelerate his inevitable demise. 

“ _Changwoo-sshi, you can wait inside. It’ll be just a while._ ”

Changmin resisted the urge to ask ‘ _are you naked_ ’ and stepped into the room. Fortunately (or unfortunately, if you asked his reptilian brain), Yunho wasn’t naked. He was, however, shirtless. Changmin could see bruises crawling up his sides from where the unbuttoned jeans were riding low on his hips. There were bite marks along the length of his throat, over the juncture of his neck. Bright red and territorial. Despite looking like he’d been mauled by a semi-hungry vampire, Yunho was humming a jaunty tune to himself as he dried his hair. Changmin’s eyes dragged over the bumps of his spine, fascinated by their shifting under pale skin.

He’s almost disappointed when Yunho slipped on a t-shirt, tucking it into the waistband of his jeans.

Stepping towards a large mirror hanging over one of the walls, Yunho’s reflection smiled at Changmin and asked, “How long have you been working for Jaebom-sshi?” 

“Nearly two months.” Changmin watched the other man warily, wasn’t sure how to address him. The two options his brain came up with were ‘Sir‘ or ‘Mr Expensive Hooker, Sir’, and the second sounded a lot like an invitation to join Junghwan in wherever the hell that poor fucker’s interred at. “Yunho-sshi—”

Yunho turned around and cut in, “How old are you?”

“Huh?”

“You’re younger, aren’t you?” Not sure where this was heading, Changmin hesitantly nodded. He was then entirely unprepared for the bright grin he received in return, one that made it even more difficult to reconcile Yunho’s existence with the kind of company they both kept. “You can call me ‘hyung’!”  
  
Changmin bit his lips, struggling to keep his face straight. “Sure… _hyung_.”

.

**tbc**

.

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/ahjusshis) !


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